


tarte tidbits;

by vermeilies (fleurise)



Category: Haikyuu!!, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Breeding, Cheating, Come Marking, Dom/sub, Domestic Violence, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Incest, Parent/Child Incest, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reader-Insert, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sibling Incest, Smut, Stalking, Teacher-Student Relationship, Werewolf Bakugou Katsuki, Yandere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:51:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 17,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26670187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurise/pseuds/vermeilies
Summary: —a collection of mini headcanons from tumblr;
Relationships: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Reader, Bakugou Katsuki/Reader, Chikazoku Tomoyasu | Skeptic/Reader, Dabi (My Hero Academia)/Reader, Midoriya Izuku/Reader, Oikawa Tooru/Reader, Shinsou Hitoshi/Reader, Takami Keigo | Hawks/Reader, Todoroki Enji | Endeavor/Reader, Todoroki Shouto/Reader, Usagiyama Rumi | Miruko/Reader
Comments: 36
Kudos: 475





	1. tier i | werewolf!bakugou

**Author's Note:**

> uwahh, feel free to drop me a line on tumblr [@vermeilies](https://vermeilies.tumblr.com) (๑>ᴗ<๑)
> 
> (tags and pairings to be updated as needed)

**✧; once he’s had a bite of you, nothing else will suffice.** in layman’s terms, _he’s addicted to you_. so addicted, in fact, that he can’t go more than a day or two without getting his fill of you. and you’re definitely not helping his case when you smell like paradise and taste even sweeter: it’s a lethal combination, yet he can’t stop crawling back for more. obviously it comes with the territory that his senses are dangerously acute, meaning he’s deeply attuned to the way your skin prickles with a salty tang when he starts ridding you of your pesky clothes. and you can’t blame him when he buries his head in the crook of your neck, where that piquant aroma is emanating in luscious waves, to swipe his tongue across your dewy skin, and particularly across that fluttering vein just begging for the tapered edge of his teeth. he just barely resists that mousseline temptation in favor of the downright sinful delicacy just between the apex of your thighs. 

**✧;** honestly, he doesn’t have any qualms about prying your knees almost painfully wide so he can gorge on your juicy pussy in peace, **_but_** nothing compares to the erotic view of you from below when your quivering cunt is hovering above his eagerly awaiting mouth. don’t even think for a minute that you have any semblance of control when you’re riding him; his hands maintain a choking grip on your hips as he presses you down on his face so he can really open you up around his tongue. he’s relentless when it comes to feasting on your rosy insides like a man starved, so even when you’re coming in his mouth for the third or fourth time in a row, thrashing above him as your nerves are set ablaze, begging for him to stop, _oh god, Katsuki please stop, it’s too much_ , he doesn’t actually stop, and he won’t until he’s thoroughly satisfied. you’ll just have to take it, every bit of it while he smothers himself on your sweet pussy and tender clit like it’s the gods’ ambrosia. ~~no one ever said that Katsuki was a man of restraint **—** he’s a gluttonous fiend through and through.~~

 **✧;** _his kisses bruise and his touch sears_. so naturally, you’re in ruins, _devastatingly beautiful ruins_ by the time he’s done with you. though nothing says you’re his property, that he owns all of you quite like leaving his mark on you… **every part of you**. he’s forged from white-hot steel and wrapped up in an apocalypse of fur: he’s born for the hunt, and once he’s got you in his crosshairs, it’s all over. you’re docile prey, the kind that whimpers and rolls over when he catches you, and even though you wouldn’t dare defy him, he loves nothing more than to tease you with the threat of his razor-sharp claws anyways. there’s no hiding that hitch in your breath when he drags a nail across your nipple, toying with the bud until it’s nice and sensitive. though it’s not long before his self-control crumbles to dust and he’s digging into you, raking his claws across your once immaculate skin as he manhandles you into whatever position best drives his cock between your cashmere walls. but you’d be a fool to think that his nails are the only thing you have to worry about—his teeth are equally bone-crushing, _empire-rending_ in nature. that’s something you can clearly attest to, because he makes sure your neck is perpetually riddled in prominent bite marks; if he espies his particular brands fading, even just the slightest bit, he’s quick to sink his teeth past the thin layers of your flesh, marring you with a fresh and mildly sanguine mark to show off. contrary to popular belief, he’s not a complete brute **(** ~~he loves you after all~~ **)** , so he bestows the afflicted patch of flesh with a shower of tender kisses that you’d do well to savor.

 **✧;** by far his favorite way to mark you as his is with his virile cum. you look like divinity itself when you’re covered in his seed, and being the greedy little nymph that you are, you’re always begging for more with those doe eyes of yours. and you’re in luck, because his cum is abundant as it thick **—** you’re practically drowning in it when he finally reaches his peak. no inch of you is off limits to him: he’s more than happy to paint your round tits, your delicate face, your full bottom in strands of pearly white. and there’s no way in hell he’s going to let you waste a single drop of his cum; he scoops up every bit of his liquid satisfaction and stuffs it between your plush lips where it so rightfully belongs.

 **✧;** he will and **does** ravage you whenever and wherever he pleases, but there’s not better kind of fuck than when he takes you by surprise. the way your heart picks up in tempo when he suddenly grabs you from behind and maneuvers you onto the floor has his dick throbbing oh so achingly in his too-tight pants. but he doesn’t have to worry about that problem for long because within seconds he’s already pushing your skirt over your hips, tearing through the seat of your panties, and lining himself up with your soaked slit in just a few fluid movements. you’re only warning is a husky breath on his part before he rams the entire length of his cock past your succulent folds in one fell swoop. as always, it’s a wonderfully tight fit once he’s inside as your walls squeeze around his girth like a vice, clinging onto him even when he retracts his hips for a split second before he’s pushing back into your peachy sleeve. he sets a merciless pace, one that knocks the wind out of your lungs with every thrust and has you scrambling to keep up as he fucks you into the ground. he knows it’s too much for you, that you’ll never really get used to the way his dick spreads you wide open like a rose or the way he punishes you each time he shoves against your cervix. but it’s a delicious sort of pain that you gulp down like _crème de cassis_ , otherwise you wouldn’t be helplessly writhing underneath as your cunt salivates all over his shaft in silken ribbons. and he’s all too willing to oblige you because he’s insatiable by nature, and he knows that heaven is the lush clench of your cunt milking him for what he’s worth.


	2. tier ii | yandere!takami keigo

**✧; Keigo didn’t know the meaning of starstruck until you’re nestled so wonderfully in his arms.** unfortunately, his first ~~fated~~ run-in with you isn’t nearly as romantic as it sounds. no, far from it when he’s in the midst of taking down a villain who has a certain proclivity for causing as much collateral damage as possible, which doesn’t bode well for unlucky little you who winds up getting caught in the crossfire. you’re like a sitting duck, frozen in place as though your legs have been frosted over with thick sheets of ice…and you’re probably still resigned to a premature demise by the time he seizes you up in his grip all in the span of half a millisecond. previously closed eyes peer up at him with crystal clear bewilderment before your gaze quickly unravels with untold relief at the realization that you’re airborne and out of harm’s way. if he wasn’t the poised hero that he was, he might have choked up on the spot because, _god damn_ , your eyes are absolutely gorgeous, _wait, scratch that_ , **you’re** **absolutely gorgeous**. you remind him of the dewy models on the front page of the glossy magazines he spots in the conbini every so often what with those feathery lashes, peaked cupid’s bow, rounded cheeks, all of which scream absolute perfection. in that moment he can feel something _unnamed_ wedge itself in the cracks of his heart which is beating ever so loudly in his ribcage. despite harboring an intense desire to carry you in his arms for just a little while longer, he instead acquiesces to the rational part of him and sets you down on a rooftop with a vow that he’ll be back soon, _so don’t worry your pretty little head off_ , he assures you with a platinum smile.

 **✧;** thanks to a renewed sense of vigor, he manages to subdue said criminal in record time, and it doesn’t take long at all to clean up the remnants of their destruction as though it almost never happened. there’s a potent sense of urgency clawing at his insides as he makes his way back to an eagerly awaiting you just like he promised. feeling a bit audacious there, he once again hoists you up despite the burgeoning confusion that’s evident on your delicate face, and before you’re able to ask what he’s up to, he deftly fills in the blanks with that airy voice of his, _now what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t accompany you home after all the troubled I caused you_. carmine-stained wings gradually beat against the wind, propelling the two of you higher and higher still while you clutch the fabric of his shirt in a gut reaction that has him chuckling under his breath. _I hope you don’t mind, but it’s a lot quicker if we go by air **—** just point me to your place, and we’ll be there before you know it, _he’s got that gilded grin on his face, and it’s all the encouragement you need to settle right into grasp as he pulls you closer to his chest for that added bit of security and to soak up that tantalizing warmth of yours that sets his nerves ablaze.

 **✧;** he’s not wrong about flying being the faster option because it feels like he blinked and now he’s already at your doorstep, setting you down on your own two feet. once you’ve found your bearings on solid ground, you offer him a cordial bow before conveying your sincerest gratitude for coming to your aid when you needed him the most. cue him waving his hand dismissively because this isn’t something to thank him over, _don’t worry about it **—** it’s my job to save cute girls like yourself_. that charming side of his persona obviously has an immediate effect on you from the way your gaze lowers just a bit as a hint of color stains the apples of your cheeks, but he doesn’t let up just yet **—** _if you’re ever in trouble again, I’ll make sure to protect you_. with that, he turns on his heel, giving you a languid wave over his shoulder as he takes to the skies to finish up some odds and ends back at the agency. though what you don’t see is the dark look that briefly flickers over his visage that belies nothing of the particularly twisted desire creeping in his veins like pesky vines. certainly, he wanted to do the right thing and take you home, wanted to ingrain that chivalrous image of himself in your head, but more importantly he _wanted commit your address to memory_ , because who knows, he might be dropping by every once in a while.

 **✧;** once he’s got something in his head, he’s nothing if not persistent, so he’s relentless in his pursuit to devour every tidibit about you. those spare moments not chasing down criminals are spent combing through your social media accounts like it’s his job. sure enough, he quickly unearths all sorts of things about you. you’re originally from tokyo, but you recently moved to fukuoka to attend, no surprise, fukuoka university. you’re not really active in on-campus circles, but every other wednesday you do hang out with your small group of friends at a quaint izakaya until around 10pm when you take the nanakumo line back home. and when you’re feeling particularly overwhelmed with the workload from classes, you have a habit of sitting out in a nondescript park that’s actually about ten minutes walking distance from his office, a coincidence he came upon after careful inspection of your scenic pictures on instagram. at this point it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that he knows you like the back of his hand. . .and maybe he knows you better than you know yourself. but he isn’t satisfied with just ~~_cyberstalk_~~ —no, learning more about you; he absolutely needs to put all this juicy information to good use.

 **✧;** and by good use he means inserting himself so deeply in your life that you can hardly remember a time when he wasn’t affixed to your side. he starts out simple, nothing too jarring yet— _because_ _patience, keigo, you’ll have her in due time_ —as he _just so happens_ to spot you on patrol while you’re on the way to classes. there’s a feeling of butterflies flapping their gossamer wings in his chest when you flash him with a luminous smile that would give a wolf-rayet star a run for its money, but he doesn’t let on that you’ve got him hypnotized. _hey, aren’t you that cute girl I saved the other day,_ he greets as if he doesn’t know exactly who you are, as if he doesn’t have your delicate facets carved in his brain. unfortunately, he has to make it quick today, so you’ll have to make do with a teasing wink as he heads off, though not before reminding you to _try and stay out of trouble, sweetheart_. the next time he _stumbles upon_ you is when you’re finishing up your weekly errands just when he’s also finishing up his work for the day. _isn’t it funny that we keep meeting up like this_ , he chuckles a bit while you nod your head in agreement with a few titters of your own. initially, you’re content to leave it as a brief passing between you two until he smoothly suggests grabbing a bite to eat since there’s a really good yakitori place up the street— _it’ll be my treat_ , he offers, though it doesn’t seem much like a suggestion when he’s plucking your bags in one hand and tugging you along with the other. and it sure feels like a date when he’s chatting you up between bites of grilled chicken, accidentally brushing his fingertips against yours every so often which never fails to bring a muted flush to your face.

 **✧;** and then on one auspicious occasion, you somehow wind up dropping your cherished strawberry-printed handkerchief **(** no thanks to his sleigh of hand **)** , though you’re already out of sight before he has the chance to return it to you. guess he’ll have to hand-deliver it to your humble abode later then. your eyes light up the moment you open your door and espy your missing handkerchief in his outstretched hand, though you’re not alarmed by the fact that he remembers where you live despite only visiting here once… _that you know of_. instead, you invite him in like the naïve little thing that you are because you absolutely have to thank him for taking the time to come all this way just for you. and it would be downright rude of him if he refused you, right? so he casually ambles inside the sanctuary of your home while you go on about how you just bought a few too many pastries in town, and he definitely deserves something sweet for his troubles. but little do you know he doesn’t need anything sweet since he has you; and although he won’t be able to ravage you like he really wants to this time around, he’s sure you wouldn’t mind something a bit milder, perhaps a fleeting kiss to your cheek…just enough to kindle those feelings already swirling in your chest and make you want him as much as he wants you.


	3. tier iii | yandere!dabi

**✧; for him it starts out as one of those nights, you know, those nights where he gets that nagging itch to watch those threads of flesh burble and melt off bleached bone**. and he’s very much on his way to paving a hellscape of white-hot carnage until you conveniently cross his path, and one glance is all it takes to convince him that you won’t get away so easily. you’re so clearly out of your element here, _and sweetheart_ , you’re really not doing yourself any favors with that demure look on your face **—** it’s as if you’re just asking to be ruined by a “ _big bad™️”_ like him. ~~_oh, and he’d love to do the honors, the pleasure is all his._~~ it’s child’s play to skulk after you **(** and it sure doesn’t help that he knows these dingy streets like the back of his hand **)** , though in your defense, you’re much too preoccupied with keeping up with your friends that are dead set on squeezing into the electric glow of some club on the corner that’s practically bursting at the seams. the urge to roll his eyes into the back of his skull is awfully tempting **(** can you tell he’s not much of a club kind of guy? **)** , but he’s willing to bite the bullet this once if it means getting his hands on you so he can pry you open and devour everything inside. ~~huh, to be desired and eaten.~~

**✧;** as much as he tries to avoid places rife with the braindead looking for a good time, he’s got to admit that the muted lighting provides ample cover for someone as infamous as him. the shadows fall over all the right places, masking much of his gnarled flesh, though anyone that does manage to get another look at him amidst their drunken stupor **(** ~~which amounts to something like three people in the room because they’re all drunk off their asses by now~~ **)** find themselves averting their eyes anyways. there’s definitely nothing to gain and everything to lose by pointing out someone who can quite literally incinerate this entire building in half a millisecond. he can feel the beginnings of a headache clawing at the back of his skull from the music blaring in every direction, so he decides at that moment that he’s got to be efficient, _really efficient_ with this **—** the faster he can snatch you up, the better. with that in mind, he saunters, _correction_ , he elbows past the bloated crowd to take residence on the far side of the bar, a safe distance away from you so he can properly finesse you without any problems. you’re not his first **—** though he’s thinking that you might be his last **—** so it’s almost magic the sleight of hand he pulls to fix a fruity cocktail with something even sweeter before it’s situated right in front of you via the bartender. 

**✧;** he’s no amateur by any stretch of the imagination, meaning it’s no coincidence that he’s slotted himself outside of your field of vision **(** though you’re squarely in his **)** , which makes it nigh impossible to pin the drink on him. and _god damn_ , are you naïve down to a _t_ , because there’s only a brief second of hesitation on your part before you bring the glass to your lips. hook, line, and sinker. it won’t be long now until you’re a helpless lamb to the slaughter, and to make the time pass a little bit faster, he pulls out his phone to scroll through whatever he can find mildly entertaining. and would you look at that, he’s hardly taken his eyes off you and you’ve already downed an entire drink on your own. he might have been impressed that someone of your size really knew how to handle her liquor, but he’s more fixated on the fact that you seem, well… _fine_. **you shouldn’t be fine after that drink.** _c’mon, calm down, Dabi **—** you probably just mixed up the dosage_. mistakes happen, **but never twice**. this time around, he makes sure to drop an extra serving since you’re a lot more resilient than you look, though that’s not going to matter once your system is completely overrun no thanks to him. not taking any chances, frostfire blue eyes rivet themselves to your figure, watching with the barest hints of curiosity ~~and a splash of vexation~~ as you once again bring said drink to your lips for a sip. _so far so good_. that is until he catches you in the act, catches you _accidentally_ spill most of said drink on the ground _. oh, so you want to play that game with him_. that’s alright with him because it just means he has to get a little more hands-on **—** _his preferred method anyways_.

 **✧;** and you make his job a hell of a lot easier when you shuffle past the masses with a flimsy excuse to your intoxicated friends that you _need some fresh air_. little do you know what a bad idea that is…but honestly he likes his girls to be a little on the airheaded side. luckily for him the streets are pretty thinned out by now **(** it’s an unspoken rule that nothing good ever happens after midnight, and he’s just that **)** yet you don’t appear to be alarmed by the fact that you’re pretty much out here all alone ~~or so you think~~. though you more than make up for that the split second he clamps a hand over your mouth while he drags you into a dank alley far from prying eyes **—** yeah, you’re definitely scared now, and he’s loving every moment of it. the too-wide smirk unfurled over his lips screams that he’s the cat that got the crème, and you’re obviously quick on the uptake because your face has all but lost its color, looking as if you’ve seen a ghost. but don’t worry he’s a lot worse **—** he’s your worst nightmare come alive. there’s nowhere for you to go and no one to come to your rescue when you’re shoved against the wall with his hand still fastened over your mouth; and it’s the sadist in him that has a lapis-tinged flame kindling mere inches from your face even though he knows you wouldn’t dare resist him.

 **✧;** _you really hurt my feelings back there when you wasted those drinks I bought you_ , it’s a stark dissonance between his dejected tone and the flickers of mania pooling in his gaze like a disease. _I’m not gonna be satisfied until you make it up to me like a good little girl_ , he presses on in the same moment that he also leans even further into you, nearly shivering from the way your ample breasts strain against his chest as you try to gulp down mouthfuls of oxygen. you might be an innocent thing, but even you know where this is going. once the realization smacks you right over the head, that’s when the waterworks start, and it’s truly music to his ears. don’t you know that begging with _him_ to _please let me go, you don’t have to do this_ only turns him on, makes his cock ache with want. _hmm_ , probably not, but you will soon enough _. so here’s what’s gonna happen, sweetheart, so listen closely, because I’m only saying this once **—** I’m gonna fuck your cute pussy until you can’t walk straight and you’re dripping with my cum, **then** I’m taking you back with me_, if possible his smirk widens, _sounds like a plan, right?_


	4. tier iv | high school au yandere!takami keigo & yandere!todoroki touya

**✧; Touya’s brand of pining is just, well… _creepy_.** like the kind of creepy that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and has your heart sputtering in your chest. a part of him thinks that he should maybe, _I don’t know_ , reign himself, but honestly that’s just not his style ~~and it never will be for that matter~~. there’s something about the way your normally buoyant smile splinters a little bit when you spot him staring, and staring, **AND STARING** at you from across the room that kindles the mania scorching in his system. you’re already adorable beyond belief, that’s nonnegotiable, **_but_** you’re even more adorable when you’re shying away from him like there’s something _comepletely_ _off_ about him. ~~you’re right on the mark too.~~ so he’s definitely salivating over the kind of reaction you’ll give him when he finally digs his claws into you and makes you his.

 **✧;** besides openly staring at you ad nauseum, he’s also good for trailing after you at every opportunity. really, it’s stalking, plain and simple. he’s incredibly inconspicuous about the whole affair—you don’t have the faintest clue that he’s on the same train car when you’re commuting to school or that he’s sitting just a table over at the coffee shop you never fail to swing by every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon. but stalking isn’t enough for him: he’s gotta have more. and more comes in the form of him snatching up some of your personal possessions, and trust him, **nothing is off limits**. he’s swiped everything from those pencils you all too often tap on your plush lips to a notebook that’s brimming with delicate penmanship in pastel colors…but surprisingly devoid of any passing mention of him. though the treasure above all treasures, the crown jewel in his shrin— _ **collection** _is hands down the lace-drenched panties he may or may not have purloined from your own bedroom no less. _you know_ , you really shouldn’t leave your window unlocked, it’s like you’re begging him to come in. _and how could he ever refused the invitation?_

 **✧; on the other hand, Takami is much more pleasant when it comes to his burgeoning captivation…at least on the surface**. it’s easy to smoothly insert himself into your daily life when he has such a disarming persona that can lull anyone’s reservations, yours included. you don’t even bat an eyelash when he tags along during your afternoon trek home despite living in the opposite direction **(** ~~and despite a particularly scalding glare boring into the back of his head~~ **)** ; what’s more, you don’t even shrink away when he _‘accidentally’_ brushes his hand against yours once or twice or even thrice. and on those occasions where he seeks you out to study together for the impending exam in class, you’re always more than happy to sit along side him in the school’s library to explain concepts he already has down to a science—honestly, he’d do anything to hear that honeydrop timbre in your voice, to be in the presence of divinity in the flesh.

 **✧;** but even Takami can’t control every compulsion that wells up in his chest like a festering contagion. don’t ask him how he really got a hold of it without your knowledge—there’s a chance that it might have involved some bittersweet-soaked coercion on his part—but somehow, someway he has your number stored in his phone contacts, and the opportunities there are just ripe for the taking. you must think that surely you gave him your number one day that you conveniently don’t seem to remember because you’re not at all alarmed when you suddenly get a text from him wishing you a _good morning_ followed by a rather cute kaomoji. oh no, you take it in stride, responding to him in an equally cheery text that has his cheeks aflush in a dusty pink shade. though in actuality that single reply from you opened the door for him to text you not just in the morning, but in the evenings too. and from there it’s a rapid descent to texting you multiple times throughout the day: is it really wrong to ask if you want to have lunch with him, or what your plans are for this afternoon, or why you decided to hang out with your other friends instead of him yesterday…?


	5. tier v | pro hero yandere!todoroki shouto

**✧; in the moment it felt like a simple coincidence, but looking back it was one hundred percent divine intervention at its finest.** even though he has both his hands full with running an entire agency all his own, he still carves out time in his otherwise busy schedule to return to his alma mater to catch up with aizawa. there’s generally very little fanfare when he visits the school **(** aside from the obvious gawking and hushed chattering from the passing student body **)** , so it catches him completely off guard when you suddenly come tumbling into him on account of a clumsy misstep. any other time he would have set you right back on your feet, and that would be the end it… _but that’s actually not the end of it_. instead, he’s lucky enough to get a tantalizing inhale of english pear nestled atop a bed of dewy waterlilies **—** a delicate yet full-bodied aroma that ripples over him, brings something terribly _murky_ to the surface. and as if that wasn’t bad enough, the moment you find your balance, you’re scrambling to apologize for not paying attention earlier in a sinfully sweet timbre. he doesn’t really note much of what you’re saying on account of being riveted to the star-shower of your eyes, and that doll-like stature of yours, and especially the way your plush tiers curl around _todoroki-san_. really, he never knew his name could sound like silver-lined dreams, but he does know that he could hear it roll off your tongue for the rest of time.

 **✧;** and so he does the natural thing that anyone in his position would do: feverishly harvest any and all information related to you, whether it’s the specific characteristics of your quirk or something as invasive as your three measurements, nothing is off limits to him. with just a brief meeting, you’ve piqued his curiosity, and now he feels absolutely compelled to learn about every facet of you partly for his own personal safekeeping and partly to make sure he sets the right kind of bait you won’t be able to resist. from what he’s surmised, you’re indeed a capable student, but there’s an inkling of untapped talent that he’s well-suited to tease out. hardly a week after your first run-in, and he’s already back at the sprawling campus, sitting across from an awfully bewildered you in one of the spare lounges. he has aizawa to thank for setting up this sit-down, especially given how stringent he is with _his_ students, which is something Shouto is all too familiar with, and he assumes you are too. not one for dragging things out, he makes it short and simple **—** he’s going to mentor you starting today. that assertion nets him an owlish series of blinks from you, but there’s no hiding the glimmer in your eyes when he explains that this arrangement will be far more _“hands-on”_ than the standard work-study. and of course your buoyant nodding coupled with and equally fervent acceptance comes as no surprise to him. Shouto knows that you would never turn such a rare **(** exceedingly rare for him considering he seldom takes anyone under his wing **)** opportunity, but little do you know that you’re just playing right into his hand all the while.

 **✧;** it’s far too easy for him to monopolize you when you’re at his office every afternoon without fail. he made it crystal clear that you would be required to come to his agency right after school, and on its face it’s simple rule to ensure that you get as much experience as possible, but in actually, it’s just a means to spend more time with you while limiting your interactions with anyone who’s not him. **(** a thorough search of your social media accounts turned up several male _“friends”_ frequently appear in your pictures, and Shouto absolutely cannot let them get their undeserving hands on you **)**. but he doesn’t stop there, because he barely allows you to engage with anyone at the agency except for himself **—** you’re his protégé and no one else’s. that’s why you only go on patrols with him around the city, that’s why your training sessions are conducted with just his supervision, that’s why every moment spent at the agency is a moment spent with him. and yet you’re so blissfully unaware of his covetous intentions bubbling just out of sight: whenever he drags you along to lord knows where, your face always lights up like a cosmic harmony, conveying every bit of your enthusiasm to learn everything you can from him.

 **✧;** and what kind of mentor would he be if he isn’t constantly, near endlessly singing your praises for how well you’re progressing. whether it’s complimenting you on successfully apprehending a villain or refining one of your signature moves, virtually nothing escapes his purview. the payoff is well-worth it in the end because not only is he granted a dreamy smile overflowing with dollops of moonshine, but it also has the effect of endearing himself to you, fanning the flames of a deep-seated fondness for him. once he espies the first instances of you throwing furtive glances at him when you think he isn’t looking and futilely stifling a cotton candy-tinged flush on your cheeks when he accidently brushes his hand against yours, that’s when he escalates even more. he develops a certain tendency to reward you for all your hard work, particularly in the form of treating you to dinners before you head home for the evening or, your personal favorite, taking you to those cozy cafés with the creamy parfaits and flowery bubble teas that he frequently notices you eying while on patrol. as innocuous as these outings seem, they each feel like a date to him, and he’s sure you feel the same way. and before long, you’re eating up his attention like it’s a sweet elixir, like he knew you would, and now that he’s molded you into his perfect image, it’s just about time that you truly, _fully_ open up your rosen heart to him. 


	6. tier vi | high school au takami keigo & usagiyama rumi

**✧; three’s a crowd definitely doesn’t exist with you, like, at all.** there’s hardly an occasion where Keigo and Rumi aren’t practically glued to your hips—pretty much from morning ‘til night, you’ve got your buoyant devotees right by your side. sure, it might sound suffocating to most, but you’ve grown completely used to the constant fawning at nearly every waking moment. would it really be a day if Rumi isn’t clambering to wrap a delightfully muscular arm around you while Keigo’s singing your praises in that crème-kissed timbre of his? no not really. and that’s how you liked it.

 **✧;** if there’s one thing they’re particularly good at it’s got to be repelling any and all potential suitors within a fifty-meter radius. a prolonged glance in your direction, the kind that’s filled to the brim with autumnal light and cherry sweetness, is oft met with Rumi’s fiery wrath and Keigo’s wintry disdain. ~~quite the deadly combination.~~ shame you’ll never experience the sensation of butterfly wings beating in your chest that comes with discovering a confession letter in your shoe locker; it’s a high school rite of passage you’ll have to make due with daydreaming about during class, because you have an inkling, scratch that, **_you know_** that any pastel-colored envelope slipped into your locker has seen an untimely end at their hands. ~~ah well, what can you do.~~

 **✧;** it’s hard to join any afterschool activities for yourself when Keigo and Rumi are both insistent that you always, **always** attend their respective club practices. if you’re not quietly observing Keigo practice his swings over, and over, and over again in the spacious kendo training hall, then you’re feverishly cheering on Rumi as she delivers yet another flawless spike over the net like it’s second nature to her. sure, you never signed yourself up for any position on record, but you’re something of an unofficial manager of both clubs, what with how often you frequent their practices and tournaments. besides, no one can deny that they each seem to work a whole lot harder when you’re in the room, so it’s honestly a win-win for everyone involved.

 **✧;** at every turn they’re trying to outdo each other: it’s a friendly competition, but a competition, nonetheless. if Keigo takes a hold of your hand during the trek to school, then Rumi is absolutely going to seize your other hand in her grasp. and as if that isn’t enough, the cherry on top comes when she presses her soft lips against the apple of your cheek before basking in the triumph that comes from one-upping Keigo ~~for the hundredth time~~. but that’s the thing with Keigo—he’s hardly ever deterred, especially when it’s your attention he’s desperately vying for. Rumi may have claimed your delicate cheek, but he seems to have somewhere else better in mind: i.e. **_your lips_**. thankfully being in public has him showing some shred of restraint because the kiss he bestows upon you is one-part fleeting and two-parts dreamy. you can spot Rumi’s smirk fracturing at the edges, and the only thing keeping her from leaning over and giving you a kiss that would really get Keigo’s goat is you interrupting their back-and-forth by tugging them along because you’re definitely not going to be late on account of their antics. **again**. ~~you’ve already had enough of enji’s scolding to last a lifetime at this point.~~


	7. tier vii | pro hero yandere!midoriya izuku

**✧; rule no. 1 of being a pro hero—never, absolutely never fall in love with your sidekick**. ~~especially if your sidekick is a downright angel sent from above.~~ huh, it’s pretty clear that he’s completely failed on that front…but is he ashamed of it? nope, not in the slightest. though in his defense, never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined that he’d be working with someone who’s the literal embodiment of heavenly starlight. you’re every bit of dulcey perfection, and the more he’s around you, the more he gets a certain nagging sensation welling up in his chest. ~~infatuation? desire? obsession? a combination of all three? **definitely**.~~

 **✧;** don’t get him wrong, he’s completely transfixed with every facet of you, but there’s something about your _peaches & cream_ innocence that really gets to him. you’re still fairly new to being a pro hero, so you’re not at all jaded from the unsavory parts of the gig just yet…and he’s fully intent on making sure that doesn’t change. **ever**. nothing can even hold a candle to your positively airy smile when he enters the room or the nigh blinding glimmer in your eyes when he compliments you on a job well done. your personality is downright precious, and he can’t even begin to envision a world without you right by his side.

 **✧;** contrary to popular belief, there’s actually a practical reason underlying why he recruited you to be his sidekick in the first place—you have a regenerative aspect to your quirk, and that’s especially useful considering he’s still prone to injury ~~even after all this time~~. you’re always quick to render first-aid to civilians and heroes alike, and he most certainly is not an exception to that. thankfully, you haven’t seemed to pick up on the fact that he somehow ends up with a few more bruises and fractures when you’re with him versus those _increasingly rare_ times he’s on a solo pursuit. if you so much as catch a glimpse of a wound on him, you don’t even blink before you’re smoothing your soft, _soft_ fingers over his flesh, too busy concentrating on the task of repairing his sinew to notice that verdant gaze trained feverishly on you, drinking in the pure image of you like a fiend.

 **✧;** Midoriya knows in his heart that he’s wrong for wanting you the way he does. he knows he shouldn’t have this burning urge to covet you, _all of you_. he knows he shouldn’t have daydreams where you’re happily confined to his apartment. he knows he shouldn’t be tempted to break the all fingers of someone who looked at you for a touch too long. he knows all of this… but he just can’t help himself anymore—he’s past the point of no return, and he has no inclination to go back now. and it’s not like you mind too much either; at least in his eyes you’re always so ebullient when it comes to him. so surely you’re just as enamored with him too, right? **right?**


	8. tier viii | ghost yandere!shinsou hitoshi

**✧; your first brush with the supernatural isn’t quite what you had imagined.** there’s no grotesque apparition bedecked in a frosted-white gown and long, _long_ hair, crawling towards you on all-fours in the dead of night. ~~**thank god.**~~ instead you’re met, no, _blessed_ with the spectral yet otherworldly sight of a young man poised near your window one particular morning when you’re pretty sure you’re still half-asleep. you must be because no normal person has such a cosmic glow, scintillating like an entire glasshouse of constellations when the individual sunbeams pass through him. cue a nervous **(read:** you were the only one nervous **)** sort of exchange in which he smoothly assures you that _no, he’s not a burglar; yes, he’s actually a ghost; and for the third time, **no** , he doesn’t plan on possessing you anytime soon_. you’re inclined to believe _Hitoshi_ **(** a name that really does roll off the tongue **)** , what with the way his lips just so faintly curl at the edges when he wonders aloud if you wouldn’t mind his company, _he promises he doesn’t bite_. though those forlorn vestiges rippling beneath the blooming amethyst of his gaze aren’t lost on you. and truthfully it wouldn’t hurt to have someone to talk to, especially when you’re, say, knee-deep in the day’s assignments, and you just need someone to exhale with. ~~hopefully he’s a good listener~~

 **✧;** your relationship with Hitoshi quickly burgeons into a symbiotic one—a give-and-take arrangement that brings a breath of fresh air to your otherwise mundane daily life. rather than return from a full day of classes to an empty apartment, you’re welcomed back to your _home sweet home_ with open arms and an awfully heartwarming smile from him. you hardly ever make it to the couch before you start unloading onto him an entire rundown of your day from start to finish, whether it’s complaining about the exam you just took or enthusing over the new café that opened up by the west gate. and just as you had hoped, he’s exceptionally attentive to your chatter, nodding his head every so often, and never passing up on the opportunity to toss in a playful remark that always coaxes a delicate sprinkling of _rosé pink_ onto your cheeks. it certainly wouldn’t be any kind of conversation with him if he isn’t reveling in your bashfulness.

 **✧;** in exchange for confiding in him all your ~~juicy~~ tidbits of the day, Hitoshi dons the role of your personal shadow…at least within the confines of your four walls. **(** you have no doubt that if he wasn’t attached to your apartment, he would follow you to the ends of the earth and back. **)** and how could you blame him when for years, and years, **and years** his heart had been kept busy with raw solitude as he walked a fine line between existing and unexisting. so it’s only natural that he would linger at your side when you’re cooking dinner for one and that he would settle on the adjoining cushion while you’re oh so engrossed in yet another episode of a cheesy romance drama. despite sticking to you like glue practically at all hours, Hitoshi swears that he’s nothing of a voyeur, that he has no desire to invade your privacy, whatever that may be. ~~and that’s a relief to you, because you still have a penchant for disrobing out in the open, and conveniently forgetting that there might be an extra pair of eyes just out of sight.~~ though on those occasions where sleep eludes you, even the darkness that stretches over your tiny bedroom can’t obscure that nagging feeling of the stabbing brilliancy of his stare from beyond. it’s probably because spirits like him don’t sleep, right…?

 **✧;** you can’t exactly pinpoint when it started, but you’ve noticed that sometimes Hitoshi’s a lot more corporeal than you remembered. let’s just say the first time this realization hit you, it garnered an almost-heart attack on your part **—** I mean, that’s definitely a warranted reaction when from out of nowhere a hand landed on your shoulder from behind. honestly, he ought to be glad you didn’t completely nail him in the face with the scalding pan you were holding. after that chain of events, it’s not so startling an occurrence anymore, especially when Hitoshi makes it a point to inundate you with delicate, lily-soft touches at every chance. though it’s not like you’re complaining; you have to admit that he does give unrivaled head pats, just the sort that fills your chest with dappled sunlight and makes you all but melt into him. though between tender strokes atop the crown of your head, you manage to inquire if he has any clue what’s behind his sporadic tangibility. a thoughtful look crosses his face for the longest time before he finally muses that it’s a mystery to him as well, and despite appearances, he’s not as versed in the laws of the paranormal as you’d like to think he is.

 **✧;** it’s completely unprompted when Hitoshi asks about who you’ve been texting _so feverishly_ , in his words. you think nothing of it in the moment **—** he’s likely just out to tease you like he always is **—** so you divulge that you’re simply texting one of your classmates who’s also coincidentally in the same circle as you on campus. it’s mostly a back-and-forth revolving around nothing in particular, which you assume that he wouldn’t be interested in hearing about at length. you really think that’s the end of it and that Hitoshi’s curiosity is sufficiently quelled right up until you’re returning home a little later one evening on account of your circle’s weekly get-together and he’s standing in the middle of the doorway with his arms folded over his chest. this time he downright grills you about _where you’ve been, and why did it take you so long to get back, and were you hanging out with your classmate again **—is he your boyfriend?**_ shellshocked is an understatement, and before you can get a word in edgewise, because you don’t understand why he’s trying to pry so deeply into your life, Hitoshi abruptly wraps you up in his embrace with the saccharine justification that he’s only worried about you, _that he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you…not like him_.

 **✧;** from that point on, you can’t even walk toward the door without Hitoshi breathing down your neck. his persuasion is caramélia-coated: he warns you that it’s dangerous out there, and that people are only out to use and toss you aside, _but not him_ , _**never him**_. that’s why you should just stay _**here**_ in your shared paradise where he’ll dote on you to your heart’s content. or at least that’s why he tries to convince you of, and god, does he do a good job of it. the problem is that you’re not one to yield that easily, and so ultimately his appeals are dismissed by you, but that doesn’t mean you’re any less fatigued by his constant urging. and today just so happens to be one of those days where you’re at the end of your rope, and you just need a break ~~from him~~. you don’t have the energy to answer a hundred questions about where you’re going, and you reassure yourself as you amble to the front door that you’ll be in the clear once you’re on the other side.

but things take a turn when a hand suddenly coils around the delicate circumference of your neck and presses you against the adjacent wall in one fluid motion. immediately, your veins fill with thick shards of ice, especially where his equally gelid hand is squeezing the air out of you. his gaze is flowering with heliotrope-tinged mania as he holds you in place, effectively sealing off your gilded escape just out of reach. technicolored splotches are already painting your vision by the time he leans in so his lips just barely _ghost_ right over your ear, and there’s momentary relief when he loosens his grip just a bit. but that relief is short-lived when his molten voice rings against your eardrums **—** _you know, you really shouldn’t run away from me, and if you try again, I’ll have to make sure you can’t leave my side for the rest of eternity_.


	9. tier ix | high school au todoroki enji

**✧; all those mundane days cooped up in the classroom have led up to now—that coveted class trip to kyoto, and you’re absolutely going to make the most of it. .** .! you could definitely use a nice change of pace from the mountains of homework piling up and the afterschool activities vying for every sliver of your attention; and this trip all but delivers on that sweet promise of reprieve from the second you hop off the train. there’s no time to linger around because the moment your feet hit the ground is also the same moment that _Todoroki-sensei_ is directing your class to drop your things off **and quick** _since you all have a long day ahead of you, so don’t expect any breaks_. you realize fairly soon that he meant every word **(** and when isn’t that the case with him **)** when you’re being ushered to all of the signature sights of the area one after the other. honestly, it’s a good amount of trekking around, but you’ll gladly take it over listening to yet another lecture about japanese literature during the taisho era. and of course, school trips are intended as bonding experiences amongst classmates, a tidbit which you certainly take advantage of as you squish into pictures with your friends and chatter on about who’s going to confess to their sweetheart on this particular trip.

 **✧;** even amidst the lively atmosphere that has swallowed up your group, in the back of your head you can feel that something is _not right_. at first, you can’t quite pin what this something is **—** maybe you’re being overly paranoid of nothing **—** and you’re content to let it go in favor of savoring this downtime with your friends. that is, until you’re scanning the view for the perfect angle of the temple for a picture and you’re caught off guard when from behind your lens you spot your teacher staring at you from a distance. and it’s not the “ _I’m-just-looking-out-for-you-as-a-chaperone”_ stare either **—** no, no, **no** it’s more the “ _I’m-stripping-you-down-like-a-man_ ” kind of stare. the intensity swirling in his eyes is downright smoldering, enough to coax a flowering of warmth over your cheeks as you scurry towards the safety of your friend group. just for good measure **(** also because you’re such a glutton for punishment **)** , you cast one last glance over your shoulder in his direction, and…to your surprise he’s too busy scolding some of the boys for lord knows what **—** it doesn’t matter to you so long as you’re not anywhere in his crosshairs. though you’d soon come to the conclusion that this was only the beginning, _rather_ , **the beginning of the end**.

 **✧;** for a while there, you rationalize that you might be reading too deeply into this, that there was probably nothing behind his gaze since he’s renowned for that penetrating look of his. ~~and even now you don’t know if you’ve gotten completely used to it, but, ah, you’re digressing now.~~ you do a pretty good job of quieting the alarm bells ringing in your head while you all skitter off to your next destination, but, you know, all good things must surely come to an end. it can’t be chalked up to a harmless coincidence that when you’re hanging your _ema_ plaque, Todoroki-sensei just so happens to be tying his own right above you; under normal circumstances you wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but when he’s literally one breath away from squeezing into your personal space, and you can practically feel the air around you tick up in degrees, you’re inclined to believe the red flags that are popping up like weeds. cue you quickly taking refuge amongst your classmates because you’ve clearly got a problem on your hands, and in your naïve little brain the only solution is to put some much-needed distance between you and him.

 **✧;** from that point on, you’re wedging yourself in whatever group you can find, anything to keep your teacher at bay. wandering through one of the historic districts provides a bit of a buffer from him, especially when you’re near endlessly gesturing to the quaint shops lining the streets because you can’t come all this way to kyoto without trying the local soba and you absolutely have to check out the traditional crafts in that store over there…! your effervescent enthusiasm belies every ounce of unease vacillating in your veins, and it’s not getting any better even though he’s out of sight…that doesn’t mean he isn’t still watching you like a hawk. you know that while you’re scanning the shelves for some sweet souvenirs for your family back home **(** with your friends flanking your sides, mind you **)** he’s just around the corner waiting for you to slip up, for you to drift a little too far away from the crowd so he can strike. but you do your best to make sure that doesn’t happen, and it pans out for the most part what with you making it to the end of the day without any more chance encounters with him.

 **✧;** you can finally exhale a sigh of relief once you all return to the inn for a good night’s sleep, and most importantly a break from Todoroki-sensei. honestly, you just want to put today behind you, pretend like it never happened in the first place; fortunately for you, you’re a lot closer now that you’re shuffling toward your shared room after a long and relaxing soak in the baths. potent lethargy is already seeping into your system in waves, and you can hardly take two steps without exhaling a long-winded yawn, but you know that soon enough you’ll be in the comfort of the futon that’s currently calling your name. because of your drowsy state you don’t quite catch onto the fact that you’re the only soul ambling through the halls **(** everyone else must have run to bed by now **)** just like you also don’t pick up on the soft sound of a door sliding open just behind you…well, until it’s far too late. then it all happens at once. a large hand grips the meat of your arm, tugging you backwards in an unfamiliar room and shutting the door as soon as you stumble inside. ~~ah, this is it for you.~~

 **✧;** you’re still reeling from the sudden turn of events when you feel a finger press against your lips, effectively shushing you, but that’s hardly needed when your gaze flickers up and your worst fears are realized. ~~not that you should be surprised.~~ dread weighs heavily in your stomach, and it’s obviously showing clear as day on your face since he moves to cup one of your cheeks in his heated palm in an attempt to sooth your nerves that are fraying at the edges as you speak. _there’s no need to be scared, it’s just me_ , comes his dulcey placation, but he doesn’t seem to understand that it’s because _it’s him_ that panic is making its home in your chest, _I promise I’m not going to hurt you, so you don’t have to run anymore, sweetheart_. you don’t know what in the world he’s talking about…but your blossoming questions are quickly answered when the searing touch of his fingers skirt beneath your pajama top to drag across your tummy. _god_ , if your heart was beating then, it’s really pounding now, and he’s not helping your case as he leans his face impossibly close to your own with the threat of a kiss hanging in the air. too bad you’re in the midst of this dire situation because you might have swooned over the uncharacteristically tender look on his face **—** _you’re too precious for your own good, sweetheart, it really makes a man want to do unspeakable things to you_.

 **✧;** that’s about the only warning you get before he picks you up like you’re as light as a bag of feathers and places you on the adjacent futon. for someone so big, he moves incredibly quick because he’s trapping you beneath his bulk before you even have the wherewithal to scurry away from his clutches. he wastes no time in slotting himself right between your legs, and you can’t fight back the shiver that racks your frame when he bumps against your clothed warmth. you instinctively bite your lip—that is definitely not the kind of reaction you should be having, though you can barely dwell on that when he’s pulling your shirt up to indulge in the sight of your breasts on full display. you’re drowning in a sea of embarrassment from the way he’s eyeing you like you’re heaven itself, and it only devolves from there when he reaches out to knead your soft flesh in his hands. this time around when he does lean in close his lips affix themselves to your own, swallowing up the low moans that bubble up as he circles his fingertips around your pert nipples. _this is wrong, it really is. . .!_ though no matter how wrong it is in actuality, you can’t help but acquiesce to him **—** he’s got you ensnared in every way, and you doubt he’s going to let you go any time soon. particularly when he withdraws from your plush tiers to level you with a sort of look that screams ‘ _I’m going to ravish you right here, right now, sweetheart_.’


	10. tier x | dadzawa + secret boyfriend

**✧; being aizawa’s daughter is natural boyfriend repellant.** it’s not shocking given that your dad is…well, _your dad_. from the outside looking in, he’s got a serrated demeanor that cuts right down to the bone…and that’s true to an extent. but what makes matters worse in the case of potential admirers is that it’s a well-known fact he’s your dark knight, your dusky protector who’s always anchored to your side: meaning it’s hard to come within ten feet of you when your dad’s steely gaze could kill on the spot. honestly, you don’t blame anyone for running in the opposite direction when they so much as peer at you from a distance **—** you too would be terrified if you were on the other side of your dad’s simmering vexation. _ ~~I’m only trying to protect you~~_ ~~, he claims. yeah okay, whatever you say, dad.~~ so imagine your **(** pleasant **)** surprise when you’re approached in the halls by an awfully cute boy from the other class on an otherwise uneventful afternoon recess. it’s sudden and completely unexpected on your end but being the wide-eyed schoolgirl that you are **(** ~~with no experience with boys your age to boot~~ ), you ardently accept his sunny confession because the concept of a boyfriend is so foreign to you, _so alluring_.

 **✧;** ****but even you’re not blissfully ignorant of the risk involved with being in a relationship…especially with someone who’s not your dad. unfortunately for you, having a boyfriend isn’t a public affair, _oh no_ , it’s an arrangement fraught with clandestine meetings and veiled tidbits of affection when no one’s looking, when **_he’s_** not looking. you’re immensely grateful that your sweetheart isn’t in your class, because at least then he’s not on your dad’s radar, but that also means that you have be creative when it comes to your trysts. shared lunches are far too conspicuous **—** besides, most of the time your lunch hour is spent with your dad anyways **—** so you settle for those cotton candy sweet gestures during breaks in the storage room that’s tucked away from view on the third floor. and dates, _uhm_ …take a bit of planning. your dad is thoroughly familiar with your small group of friends **(** all girls per his insistence, mind you **)** , so there’s no objection on his part when you tell him you’re going to hang out for the afternoon…and that’s partly accurate. _partly_. for a little bit, you do chatter with your friends over toffee-drizzled lattes, but soon enough they take the cue **(** while making sure to tease you on their way out **)** , and it’s not long before you’re exchanging small pecks colored in innocent infatuation.

 **✧;** ****and it goes like that for a time, with you skirting the line while your dad is none the wiser. of course you feel twinge of an unnamed _something_ rattling in your chest because you’re going behind his back, but in your defense, you’re not deceiving him…you’re just not telling him every little facet of your personal life. that’s understandable for your age, right? either way, you’re long past the point of return, and you’re fully intent on keeping this going far away from your dad’s prying eyes. ~~though fate has other ideas.~~ in hindsight, you were definitely pushing it, but in the moment, you’re much too captivated by the shower of adoration, so you don’t think much of it when you scurry around a corner for a quick kiss after wrapping up a joint training exercise. what you don’t think of is the chance that someone could come along…and that’s exactly what happens. but it’s not just anyone, _it’s aizawa-sensei_. never in your life have you wanted the ground to swallow you up in a single gulp like you do right now. your dad’s livid, no wait, livid is an understatement, and you’re not sure how to feel knowing that the brunt of his fury is not directed at you. instead, your darling ~~or more likely your ex-darling now~~ is already skittering off on account of the absolute zero degree glare leveled in his direction. and somehow in that moment the linoleum floors have become a lot more interesting, so interesting, in fact, that you can’t even bring yourself to meet your dad’s gaze. not like you have to anyways because when his husky voice reverberates against your eardrums, you know that you’re really in for it later. _you have thirty seconds to get back to class, and if you’re late, I’ll expel you_ **—** it’s an idle threat, one that doesn’t have too much weight, but it nonetheless makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on edge as your heart beats just a little bit faster. and the cherry on top comes when he leans down so his lips brush against the shell of your ear, so you can really hear him loud and clear: _we’ll discuss this further when we get home today_. ~~lord help you.~~

 **✧;** ****it’s a quiet trek back to the apartment, and it’s an even quieter evening while you prepare a simple dinner, and then get to work on tonight’s assignments with him in the near vicinity as per usual. you’re highly unnerved by the fact that he hasn’t said anything edgewise about today’s cataclysmic fallout **—** it’s almost **(** the keyword is _almost_ **)** as if it never happened in the first place…but you know better, you know you’re not nearly out of the woods just yet. you thank your lucky stars that tonight’s one of the nights where you don’t have gear up and trail after your dad for hours upon hours of city surveillance; you’d love nothing better than to just turn in for the evening and spare yourself the awkwardness that comes with being around him. but alas such is not to be, because the second you stand to amble to your bedroom, quietly, borderline inaudibly wishing him a good night, you’re suddenly pulled onto his lap. his expression is downright unreadable even by your standards, and it quickly devolves into something of a staring contest as you wait for him to inevitably bring down the proverbial hammer on you. though you’re completely thrown for a loop when he reaches out to cradle your cheek in his palm, sweeping over your smooth flesh with his thumb in delicate strokes that instinctively has your heart swelling a couple sizes in your chest.

 **✧;** _you know, you really shouldn’t lie to your dad like that_ , he admonishes, though his gaze softens ever so slightly, a clear yet subtle sign that you’re not quite in hot water. ~~yet.~~ _did you ever think of how I’d feel knowing you were sneaking behind my back_ **—** now that one stung… **a lot**. guilt starts to fester in your stomach, and the only thing keeping you from hanging your head in shame is his hand angling your face toward him, ensuring that you **cannot** hide from him. and before you know it, a cascade of apology after apology spill from your tongue: you’re sorry that you were dishonest with him, you’re sorry that you ignored his own feelings, _I’m so, **so** sorry, dad_. and you don’t notice that he’s got his arm coiled around your middle until you’re nearly pressed right against his chest, and in the back of your mind you’re reminded that _home_ has always been here in his embrace. _I promise you don’t need any other man beside me_ , he assures you in richly malted tones, and although you’ve heard this similar phrase over a thousand times, it somehow rings more compellingly when you’re wholly enveloped in him. really, there’s no deeper intimacy than being together with him in your shared little universe. soon enough, you completely give into temptation and completely lean onto his frame, fitting together like two pieces in a puzzle. it’s mesmerizing the way his chest ebbs and flows with every breath, but that’s not enough to deter you from hanging off his every word **—** _I love you so much, sweetheart, more than anyone else. that’s why I want you to always stay mine_. ahh, he’s right about that: **_you’re his, and he’ll forever be yours_**.


	11. tier xi | yandere!dabi

**✧; make no mistake: you made him do this.** maybe if you hadn’t been cozying up with hawks, maybe if you hadn’t invited hawks’ shameless advances, maybe if you hadn’t been _**unfaithful**_ to HIM, things would have turned out much differently. but what happened, happened, and he knows just how to make things right again **—** too bad that means you’ll have to suffer a little bit in the process. it’s out of love, though; it’s because he’s so enamored with you that he’s taking these ~~drastic~~ measures in the first place. besides, you’ll be thanking him once all this is said and done.

 **✧;** he makes sure the setting is as conspicuous as possible, meaning your shared apartment just so happens to double as the perfect backdrop for what he has in store for you. and trust him, this isn’t something he’d prefer to do **—** no one can even come close to rivaling your starlit divinity, and his partner for the evening is no exception. she’s horribly plain-looking, definitely not a head-turner by any stretch of the imagination, though in his defense, he at least tried to pick someone that favored you. but it really doesn’t matter what she looks like once he closes his eyes—you’re deeply carved into the recesses of his mind, so it doesn’t take much to imagine that it’s your luscious honeydew lips he’s punishing or that those silken moans reverberating in his ears are all yours.

 **✧;** it comes as sweet relief when he hears a distinct pair of footfalls ambling closer and closer and then. _nothing_. Dabi doesn’t have to peer up from where he’s currently leaving an unsightly hickey on her neck to get an eyeful of your distraught expression, but he does it anyways, just to put that last nail in the coffin. and it works like a charm because you’re immediately bolting through the front door with a flowering wound already cutting through your chest. _shit_. for a moment there he feels a searing sort of guilt ravage his system, and the only thing keeping him grounded, keeping him from chasing after you is the ~~flawed~~ belief that his efforts are for the greater good. **(** thankfully, there’s a bit of cathartic release for him when his nameless partner is nothing but bone and ash in his hands—collateral damage that won’t be missed **)**

 **✧;** because he’s such a sympathetic lover, he gives you some time to have a little space for yourself, but not enough to allow you to move on from him. you’re still as teary-eyed as ever when he finds you and affixes himself right to your side despite your initial attempts to rebuff him. he knows how to be gentle when he wants to, wrapping you up in his arms so he can fully dote on you like you so desperately need. but he also doesn’t forget to _oh so kindly, cherry sweetly_ remind you that this is all your fault to begin with; that you should only have eyes for him and only him; that no one else wants you, not like he does, _so you should never, **ever** betray him again_.


	12. tier xii | yandere!dadzawa + yandere!shinbro

**✧;** **you’re a spring tide beauty with a sunlit heart… but you’ve also got fire coursing through your veins and bones forged of raw tungsten**. that’s why you’re not at all fazed by the mottled bruises that speckle a good portion of you from head to toe **—** you look like a warzone in every sense of the word. that’s alright, though, because these wounds will heal in due time just like the others, just like they always do. but what’s not exactly alright is the fact that you allowed yourself to get this injured in the first place; it might have been a training exercise outside of class, _but a fight is still a fight_ … and you clearly didn’t fare as well as usual, far from it, actually. guess that means you need a good dosage of some more practice because you absolutely are not going to let this happen again. let it be known that you’re beyond embarrassed at your own imperfections …but you’re even more embarrassed at the prospect of returning home like the spitting image of a walking natural disaster. it’s as though they’ve conveniently forgotten that you’re an up-and-coming hero who can easily fend for herself. **(** in fact, it’s **_you_** people should be worried about **)**. hence, their overblown reaction whenever you so much as get a scratch on your _cute little_ face despite danger pretty much coming with the territory. ah, you’re certainly going to have to practice a little harder for their sakes. ~~and definitely yours too.~~

**✧;** ~~unfortunately~~ your intuition is spot on…again. you get about half of a foot through the front door and they’re already on you like bees to honey, and… well, you are reminiscent to that exquisite elvish honey in their minds. still, no matter how precious you are to them, you don’t know if it warrants them coddling you to such an extent; one might have thought you had broken all twelve pairs of ribs by the way they usher you to the couch with their arms so tenderly wrapped around your waist. meanwhile, you’re trying ~~and failing~~ to temper their bubbling worries because _you promise you’re fine, it may look bad, but you’ve been through worse, really…!_ though honestly you’re not too surprised when they choose now of all times to dismiss your placations in favor of sitting you down on the plushy cushions to tend to you since you obviously can’t be trusted to do anything on your own at this point. then they divide and conquer: your dad makes his way to the bathroom in order to pluck the necessary bandages and antiseptic while your brother ardently anchors himself to your side, he’s that shoulder to lean on, that salve to take away all your pain _. Hitoshi has always had a knack for cradling your heart in his hands_.

 **✧;** you’re soaking up every bit of your brother’s honeysuckle comfort by the time your dad returns with supplies in hand to patch you back up. and he really does make quick work of your injuries with a tender sort of finesse, the kind that makes you melt into his touch that’s as velvet as a dream. really, you should have been used to their ministrations, used to how they treat you like something oh so divine, but to you it’s like every time is the first time with them. long gone are your previous misgivings and in their place are poignant flickers of warmth that fill your chest to the point of spilling out. you’re tempted to believe that all is said and done once your dad puts the finishing touches on dressing your wounds, but you’re very much mistaken when your dad settles in beside you to lavish you with his undivided attention. **(** as if you aren’t already drowning as it stands from what with Hitoshi dragging his lips over the bits of your flesh that aren’t entirely marred.) for a while there it’s quiet between the three of you as you allow yourself to fall prey to their affection that flirts with the border of outright veneration. ~~_oh, but honey, don’t you know that’s just the calm before the storm_.~~

 **✧;** so it’s quite an understatement to say that you’re completely thrown for a loop when Hitoshi seizes your chin between his fingertips and cranes your face in his direction. on cue, you’re greeted with a sight that makes your stomach drop a bit **—** his gaze is a dusky shade of heliotrope that’s rippling with tinges of potent agitation that he’s doing his best to keep at bay. _so are you going to tell us what the hell happened or am I going to have to pry it out of you_ , he drawls in an awfully honeyed timbre, though you can sense the serrated edge of a threat simmering below the surface. your first reaction isn’t to respond outright to him, especially when he’s got “ **that look** ™️” on his face **—** you’ve indeed had your fair share of glassy-eyed incidents with him **—** but you’re convinced otherwise when the voice of reason on your other side chimes in with a _go on, we’re only asking because we’re concerned about our princess_. **_urk_** , there’s really no room for arguing on your part. and so like the good girl that you are you readily divulge that you’re all scratched up because you were training after class and not because someone had attempted to rough you up on the streets, _you swear that’s the truth from the bottom of your heart…!_

 **✧;** the whole time you’re chattering away, trying to clear your name and whoever they have in their minds to punish for laying a hand on you, Hitoshi’s stare never strays from your face, likely in an attempt to uncover whatever tidbits he believes you might be hiding from him. and you think you’re being spared from his scrutiny when your dad swoops in to disentangle you from your brother’s grasp and envelop you in his embrace with his chin nestled on the crown of your head. but in actuality, you’ve jumped from the frying pan into the fire, especially when you feel your dad’s lips ghost across the shell of your ear, making sure you can hear him crystal clearly. _I really wonder what to do with you, princess **—** you always seem to come back to us broken and battered_, he muses aloud, and as innocuous as it sounds, that doesn’t stop your heart from shuddering in your chest. and to make matters worse, leave it to Hitoshi to add his two cents, which is hardly ever good for your case. _you know, it almost makes me think that we shouldn’t even let you out of the house anymore_ , your brother squeezes back into your personal space to cup one of your cheeks in his palm, languidly smoothing his thumb over your rapidly heating skin, _it’s obviously too dangerous for you out there, and I don’t know what I’d do if you really got hurt_. you honestly hope that they’re just teasing you as usual, but the way your dad’s arm coils around you coupled with the raw shards of desperation flitting in those lilac hues has a certain icy sensation filling your veins.


	13. tier xiii | chikazoku tomoyasu + breeding kink

**✧; Chikazoku prides himself on being a man driven by reason—things that make complete and utter sense.** but this… ** _this_** defies all logic, and you’re entirely to blame ~~because he absolutely refuses to admit that he’s even slightly at fault~~. that has to be the explanation, or lack thereof, underlying why you rouse these feelings, _no, **these desires**_ in him…specifically his loins. if it weren’t for you, he wouldn’t have this nagging compulsion to bend you over and pump you full of his pearly cum just like he also wouldn’t have to suppress the urge envision just how resplendent you’d look once your figure is wonderfully filled out on account of him. thankfully you’re both the problem _and the solution_ —he doesn’t have to look too far to find the salve to his searing ache because you’re oh so easily coaxed into going along with whatever risqué scenario he has laid out for you.

 **✧;** he’d like to believe that he isn’t especially picky about how he takes you in bed, but there’s something so titillating about having you at his mercy while he mounts you from behind. dare he say, it’s the perfect position, considering his towering height: it makes it that much easier to slide all the way to the hilt so his cockhead is pressed right against your cervix. and while you’re desperately careening underneath him, unabashedly and quite noisily proclaiming your eagerness to swallow every inch of his length, he wastes no time in reaching around to tug and pinch at your stiff clit. Chikazoku has every bit of you mesmerized in the steel trap of his mind, so he knows _precisely_ how to make you burn in honeyed ecstasy. and once you’re spilling all over him, drooling at both ends, he can’t help but pound you into the mattress, making sure he reaches the deepest parts of you when he finally, _at last_ fills you up with his seed.

 **✧;** you’re practically bursting at the seams when he releases inside you: his cum is beading around your swollen lower lips before trailing down the soft plane of your thighs. he thinks you’re brutally beautiful masterpiece, especially when you’re such a mess and spread unbearably so around his girth. for the longest time he doesn’t move, doesn’t even twitch, instead reveling in the snug fit of your velveteen walls as they sporadically pulse around him and suck up more of his milky satisfaction. but he’s nothing if not thorough, and he knows that once is not enough, **will never be enough**. and so the moment he’s fully recovered, he picks up exactly where he left off, vehemently plunging into you with the sole fixation to have you overflowing with his sperm.


	14. tier xiv | submissive bakugou katsuki

**✧; you’re subtle yet savage—** just the kind to lick the blood of an empire off your fingertips with a smile. that’s probably how Katsuki sees it, given the fact that he knows firsthand your otherwise gentle demeanor hides a starving tyrant itching to sink her teeth into him. you really have no one to thank but Katsuki himself, because without a few dulcet taunts on his part, you would have never known how titillating it is to bring him to his knees. and now that you’ve gotten a wonderfully succulent taste of his submission, there’s no going back now…not that he’s complaining.

 **✧;** there’s hardly any better position than being perched atop your lover while he’s properly restrained and at your mercy. you know it would be a relatively easy feat for him to break free of his bindings, but there’s an unspoken promise lingering in the air that he’ll abide by your rules for the evening. honestly, you’re not asking for much. _oh no_ , you’re only asking that he be the obedient boy he so desperately tries to mask under that veil of thunderous entrails, and it starts with him acquiescing to your desires that of which stems from languidly dragging your bare cunt over his erection. and the tortured look ‘pon his face is all the encouragement you need to keep going **—** he’s painfully, _dreadfully_ wound up, and you can just feel the velvet want coursing through his bloodstream in waves from the way his cock strains against your pussy lips. _hmm_ , you’re feeling a touch generous tonight, so you’re feeling inclined not to drag out his suffering for much longer. ~~though that isn’t to say that next time you won’t keep him on edge for hours on end.~~

 **✧;** your mouth is already watering by the time you grip his flushed dick between your delicate fingers, stroking that prominent yet sensitive vein on the underside just begging for your attention. and he gets that and more, _much more_ once you’re sinking all the way down on his length, taking your absolute sweet time while you revel in the feeling of his girth deliciously stretching you out. having him completely stuffed inside you is like heaven on earth, and clearly Katsuki is equally enraptured with the tight clutch of your walls squeezing around him if his euphoric expression is anything to go by.

 **✧;** you know him like the back of your hand, so it comes naturally to rock your hips back onto his pelvis with deep, penetrating strokes, the kind that has the tip of his cock nudging against your cervix every time. any unsolicited oscillation from him is strictly forbidden, which gives you free reign to ride him to your heart’s content, and you’re not going to let that opportunity go to waste as you swallow him up like your life depends on it. ~~in a sense, it does.~~ and despite the feverish pleasure beading up in your system, making it hard to think past the ache building to a crescendo in your belly, you still manage to pin your gaze to his face, and you’re awfully enamored by the sight of him utterly fascinated with the way your plush lips are split wide-open around him. **_god_** , he’s too much, even for you. you’ll certainly have to reward him for being so precious, but for now you just want to see him come undone by your command, and that’s the sole thought burning in your mind as you press your palms against his chest for that needed leverage to really bury him inside your pussy. and above the wet smacking of your bottom against his pelvis those, _bruléed_ groans framed around your name are the perfect remainder that you’ve got him hooked on the ambrosia of you. 


	15. tier xv | yandere!midoriya izuku + lolita reader

**✧;** **your existence is a simple one.** it’s carved out of ruffled headdresses pinned to your hair, of bell-shaped skirts drenched in a layer cake of petticoats, of strawberry-glossed lips tightly sealed shut, and most importantly of **_your one and only_**. Izuku is as much your lover as he is your entire world **—** every part of you revolves around him like a moon drawn to his orbit. of course, he mirrors that same sentiment…why else would he spend almost every waking moment sewn to your side? and the lace-soaked ensembles that you flourish each day are clearly the physical manifestation of his autumnal devotion; even in your awfully docile state, you can still keenly espy the lustre of star-showers rippling in his eyes while he gets to work creating a delicate masterpiece of you. there’s a profound sort of intimacy to be had when he’s gazing upon you as though he’s seen the edges of the universe and you’re completely wreathed in its resplendence. you’re divinity in the flesh, _and you’re all his_.

 **✧;** and because you’re every bit of that snowdrop perfection, it’s no wonder he’s taken it upon himself to shield you from the corrupt outside that would sully you beyond recognition. thus, your domain is nothing but the gilded cage of his room where you’re sufficiently out of harm’s way, and he doesn’t have to worry about you somehow escaping his purview. but Izuku isn’t just satisfied with having you under lock and key, there’s also that added caveat that you’re to rely on him. _wholeheartedly_. meaning your only purpose in life **—** that is, besides loving him **—** is to let him orchestrate your entire being, to let him do all the thinking in your stead. _it’s for your own good_ , he says while combing his fingers through your tresses; _it’s because I adore you_ , he coos in-between moonlit kisses…and it’s hard not to believe him when he’s constantly reminding you, _don’t worry, I promise I’ll take care of you_. and he does just that. never mind the fact that you’ve become something of a living, breathing doll in the process, he’s staunchly set in his conviction not to let you lift a finger for anything. your autonomy has practically disappeared into thin air overnight never to be seen again because at this point, you’re not even allowed to voice what you want for dinner or that you’re feeling particularly antsy from being inside all day, **_every day_**. oh no, no, _no_ , he’ll feed you mouthfuls of that curry rice he knows you love so much ~~even though you’ve eaten it twice this week already~~ , and he’ll _accompany you_ to the nearby park every once in a blue moon if he thinks you could use some much-needed sunshine. ah, it would seem that yielding to him like a weeping lily really comes second nature to you.

 **✧;** there’s hardly anything Izuku’s more addicted to than wrapping dainty little you up in his arms **—** it’s the syrupy and berried medicine that he just can’t get enough of. most times he’s content to simply revel in the deep richness of your presence, professing his affection through sweet gestures amidst the elusiveness of your heartbeats. yet there are still those times that the beginnings of carnal intoxication seeps into his veins, and his hands are not so much caressing your side, but more so drifting beneath your skirts aplenty to drag his fingers over the sensitive patch of your inner thighs. like clockwork, you immediately catch onto the hints bubbling just below the surface and allow yourself to relax a bit against his chest as you readily assume the pliant role that he’s come to expect of you. though pliant doesn’t necessarily equate to quiet, not that such is a problem for you when his fingertips lightly rub against your covered heat, coaxing the barest hints of a mewl on your part. he probably thinks that’s a good start because right then he tugs your frilly panties to the side to give your wet heat the attention it so deserves. there’s the familiar taste of swiss meringue pleasure dancing on your tongue as he squeezes a single digit past the slip of your entrance that so eagerly takes to him. it’s obvious how bewitched you are with his fervor, eating up those morsels of ecstasy when he curls yet another finger inside you. already, you’re slowly starting to unravel atop him: drops of sweat prickle on your skin, nerves are alit with electricity, and moans quickly climb up in pitch. really, it’s the perfect storm, and it’s made all the more turbulent the second he circles your clit in perfect rhythm to his thrusts. this is too much **— _he’s too much_**. only belatedly do you realize your tumbling over the edge, when your eyes are clenched shut and your chest heaves with erratic gasps of air. 

**✧;** Izuku is far too warmhearted for his own good, and that’s especially true when he’s gently swaying you on his lap whilst you attempt to ground yourself back on earth. it takes a moment or so for the vivid hues to dissipate from your vision, but you’re sure he doesn’t mind, he’ll wait until the end of time for you if that’s what it takes. and you’re no different **—** you could stay here like this forever, in this suspended state of limbo where you’re tucked away in his embrace as vestiges of euphoria oscillate in your system. though perhaps another time because you’re shifted around on his thighs right before you feel the plush tip of his length nestle between your dripping folds. a single beat. and then he’s slowly sliding inside you with all the tenderness in the world until he’s fully sheathed between your pulsing walls. he fondly pries you wide open, blossoming between the cracks of your being so that you’re overflowing with his rosen desire. it’s a lot to take, particularly when he’s rocking into you as though he can’t bear to be separated from the tight clutch of your heat. but to you, there’s nothing quite as heavenly as falling into disarray with him.


	16. tier xvi | dadzawa + shinbro

**✧; you’d like to think that you have a high threshold…but even you have your limits**. simply put, you’re at your wits’ end. you very well understand that they’re only doing what’s natural, what’s so deeply sewn into their very being **—** and that’s to shower you in unconditional love as a family ought to. on the one hand, you’re immensely grateful for the sheer amount of attention they devote to you, but on the other hand, they’ve taken that adoration to the nth degree and far beyond, coddling you to the point of suffocation. as much as you bask in those cotton-candy kisses they press to your cheeks, and the sanctuary of their tight embrace that envelopes you in warmth, there’s only so much of their fixation that you can possibly take. from the moment you wake up squished between them in bed to the time that you go to sleep, _again, flanked by them on both ends_ , they’re always draped over you. in fact, you can’t even go more than two steps without Hitoshi affixing himself to your side, his hand instinctively interlacing with yours just like you also can’t make an entire day without being pulled onto your dad’s lap as he runs his hands up and down your waist. _really, it’s all getting to be too much_.

 **✧;** hence, your frantically hatched plan to get some sort of break from them; you think that maybe, just maybe if you flee for a bit, things will settle themselves out. _hopefully_. you know it won’t be an easy feat to slip out from beneath their noses, but if you time it just right, they won’t have the faintest idea where you’ve skittered off to until it’s much too late. **_hopefully_**. though it looks like lady luck is on your side when she gifts you an awfully auspicious opportunity in the form of both your dad and brother being away from home for the evening; your dad’s been called to a mandatory meeting with the public safety commission, so that means work studies is out for tonight, and Hitoshi’s wrapped up in some sort of training exercise he can’t get out of no matter how hard he tries. that just leaves you all alone in the apartment ~~for once~~. sure, they can send waves of texts double-checking that you can handle being by yourself for a few measly hours **(** _yep, I know there’s leftovers in the fridge, dad_ and _no, I’m not going to open the door for strangers, toshi-nii_ ) but that’s a whole lot different that actually laying eyes on you. and that makes it almost too easy to cram your essentials in a bag and scamper out the door with them being none the wiser. 

**✧;** thanks to the fair bit of money you _borrowed_ **—** you’re sorry, **_you swear_** , but desperate times call for desperate measures **—** you’re able to get a one-way ticket to the fukushima prefecture; you don’t really care where exactly so long as you can get some distance between you and them to try to throw them off your trail. once you deem that you’re sufficiently far enough away, you promptly check into the most unassuming hotel to bide your time until you can figure out what to do from here. though a fair portion of that time is spent glued to the television to see if there are any tidbits circulating on the news outlets concerning your sudden disappearance. whether fortunately or not, there isn’t a glossy-lipped reporter tearfully dabbing at her eyes as she bemoans how Eraser Head’s daughter could have abruptly go missing, could it be the work of villains holding her hostage…? and you have a hunch it’s for that very reason your name isn’t scrolling across the screen on the news ticker **—** it’s like asking for some criminal to come hunting you down if word gets out that you’re not within your dad’s field of view. honestly, you don’t need a villain tracking you down when you **know** that your family is already vehemently looking for you at this very moment. well, they can search all they want, but you’ve made sure to cover your tracks. _or so you thought_.

 **✧;** you know how to lay low, how to slip into the murky shadows and out of the public eye, so you’re not surprised that a week later you still haven’t aroused any suspicion. though the downside to that is you’re near perpetually cooped up in your hotel room pretty much from sunup to sundown, with the exception of those times when you’re tired of room service, and you decide to quickly grab something to eat in the near vicinity. for you, it’s just another day locked inside, scrolling, scrolling, scrolling on your _new phone_ **(** because you have a feeling that your previous one had a gps installed onto it) as you still try to hash out your next steps…to little avail. you’re so absorbed in scanning over post after post that only belatedly do you hear a hard knock on your door **—** _finally_ , you huff while your stomach growls in accompaniment, practically salivating over the thought of a hand-delivered plate of beef katsu waiting for you on the other side. it takes mere seconds for you to scuttle over to the door, another few seconds to crack the door open, and a split second to have your wrist snatched up in a bone-crushing vice.

 **✧;** naturally, your instincts kick in, and you attempt to jerk your hand to smash your assailant into the door and dislodge his grasp, but your plans fall by the wayside when you catch a glimpse of hyacinth swashes blooming with raw ire. **_crap_**. you wish it had been a criminal knocking on your door, at least you could have beat them into submission. these two? _not so much_. Hitoshi uses that brief moment of hesitation on your part to wrench the door open and shove you back inside as your dad shuffles in behind him, and you swear there’s the faintest flickers of sanguine red simmering in his gaze. and maybe it wasn’t just a trick of the eye because by the time your brother walks you all the way back to sit on the edge of the bed, you’re already restrained from the waist up thanks to that pesky binding cloth. _yeah, you’re pretty much a sitting duck_. there’s no reprieve for you when Hitoshi grips your face between his fingers, squeezing your jaw until you’re wincing in pain **—** _so you really thought it was a good idea to run away, huh, little sis?_ stark silence is his answer, and so he picks up right where he left off with a serrated edge scratching at his voice, _you’re really a stupid little sister if you thought we wouldn’t find you_. your brother does a good job of making you forget that he’s not the only one you have to contend with right up until the point that you hear an exasperated sigh echo in the room. _I don’t think you begin to realize how much of a headache this caused us, how worried we were when you weren’t at home_ , he admonishes you in a way that has you stiffening in your seat, because you know that’s only a prelude for what’s looming over the horizon…and it’s not good for you. your dad’s fingers replace Hitoshi’s on the sides of your face, and you’re not assuaged in the slightest bit even though he treats you far more delicately **—** _you have a long way to go before you earn back our trust, and it starts with you being a good girl for us, princess_.


	17. tier xvii | yandere!oikawa tooru

**✧; put simply, Tooru is all-consuming.** he’s just the kind to swallow you whole in a single gulp and make you a part of him, tie you to his very existence. he might be born of the cosmos, a stellar phenomenon encapsulated in sinewy flesh and devilishly good looks, but he’s no less the starving fiend eating away at everything in your life that isn’t _your dear Tooru-kun_. and you’re sure that he’s saving the best morsel for last: your _ruby crémeux heart_ that beats oh so nicely for him. to Tooru, you’re his luscious delicacy that he can’t keep his hands off of, because in his words, _you’re just too cute **—** it’s like you’re begging me to kiss you_. so it’s only natural that the manager position seems to just fall right into your lap; though in reality, you know that you don’t have a choice in the matter since his word is law in your mind ~~and disobedience is a costly thing~~. of course, no one **—** not even coach irihata **—** raises a brow when suddenly one afternoon you’re scurrying into the gymnasium all adorned in those signature white and turquoise swashes with a clipboard in hand and a sheepish smile ‘pon your face. really, this was bound to happen at some point.

 **✧;** it’s clear as day to you that your role as manager of the team is merely an extension of Tooru’s desire to spend every waking moment with you. as overbearing as that may sound on paper, in actuality, you find his feverish affections to be endearing **—** so endearing, in fact, that you don’t mind sacrificing your other afterschool activities for his sake, for the _sake of the team_. ~~at least that’s what he convinces you of in those sinfully dulcet tones.~~ though you know there’s more, there always is when it comes to Tooru. sure, he can easily keep his eye on you when you’re regularly attending all their practices, their matches, their _everything_ , but this is also the perfect opportunity to test just how loyal you are to him. ~~_and he won’t accept anything less than your full devotion._~~ you’re practically asking to be gawked at and salivated over when you’re a demure little beauty, eyes shining with starlit innocence, amidst a den of terribly hormonal boys. even with the unspoken rule that _you’re **his**_ hanging heavily in the air, you don’t take any chances: you don’t let their touch linger for too long when you’re passing out water and towels, you always shrink away from those buoyant embraces whenever they score a point **(** which hanamaki is a frequent offender of **)** , and you never, _ever_ allow yourself to be alone with anyone who’s not Tooru.

 **✧;** in that same vein, you’re also expected to pour a good portion of your attention into Tooru, and it’s definitely a careful balance between doting on him and supporting the rest of the team. there’s hardly a time when you’re not riveted to him **(** especially since he’s already thoroughly trained you to keep your eyes on him **)** , so it comes second nature to you to fixate on the way he cuts through the air to deliver yet another flawless serve. but you wouldn’t be worth your salt if watching was the only thing you did; _oh no_ , all the while, you’re meticulously jotting down notes from the bench to help with his continual improvement, his journey toward _utter perfection_. and clearly you’re doing a good job of it because praise flows like bourbon honey spilling from his lips— _you’re the best manager we could have asked for_ , he says; _what would we ever do without you_ , he says. though it’s not enough for him that your gaze follows him around like a magnet…he needs those tangible tidbits of your adoration too. and given the fact that he’s never shied away from public displays of affection, it’s not surprising when he wraps you up in his arms after a successful play or when he affixes his lips to yours for the longest time right before a match. Tooru crowns himself with you, and he makes sure everyone knows it.

 **✧;** Tooru can control his own team, yes, but the same can’t be said for other teams, and that’s particularly salient when you’re attending their official games. for the most part, your first line of defense is the third years, what with iwaizumi taking the helm and serving as your steadfast shield against the opposing teams’ brazen advances. though sometimes there’s _the one_ that slips through the cracks and manages to get within your close proximity…but not for long, because Tooru possesses an uncanny ability to materialize when someone’s on the cusp of stealing what’s so rightfully his. still, there’s only so much he can do when he’s on the court and you’re endlessly being showered with coquettish gestures from the other side of the net. you’re even more focused on Tooru than ever before as you tune out the winks and teasing waves tossed in your direction, but you **(** and the rest of the team **)** can tell by the sudden ferocity in his serves that your efforts aren’t nearly enough to placate him.

 **✧;** you try to maintain that luminous smile pulling at your lips as you congratulate the team on another incredible victory, but the moment Tooru seizes your arm in his grasp and drags you to an empty corridor, the anxiety churning in your chest manifests on your face. you’re still reeling by the time he leans in to punish your lips with his own, biting down on the soft flesh until it gives way to a coppery tang that invades your mouth the same time his tongue forces itself down your throat. you can hardly call it a kiss, but either way you’re starting to feel lightheaded from the startling lack of oxygen, prompting you to push on his chest in a vain attempt to persuade him to have mercy on you. it doesn’t work, and he only pulls away once you’re sufficiently dazed and slumped against the wall. under different circumstances you would have been hypnotized by the sight of his tongue languidly sweeping over his tiers to collect those leftover vestiges of blood, though in this space it only fills you with potent unease. _I saw the way those boys were eyeing you like a piece of meat back there, sweetheart_ , a heartbeat as mania flickers in his gaze, **_and it makes me sick_**. shivers wrack your frame when he dips his head into the crook of your neck, pressing his lips against your thrumming pulse _. this is all your fault, though **—** you shouldn’t have been flirting with them like that_, he chides in a timbre that’s far too saccharine and makes your stomach coil into knots. your bubbling fears are all but realized when you feel the distinct prick of his teeth against your shoulder, against a slightly faded but still tender splotch. ~~his personal kind of brand.~~ _looks like I’ll have to remind you and everyone else that you’ll always belong to me_ **—** and that’s the last thing you hear before white-hot pain overcomes you. but to Tooru, _love is a painful thing_.


End file.
